


Kirin-sensei

by mew_tsubaki



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Kunimi is a Little Shit, M/M, but isn't Kunimi always like that??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 14:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6989041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/mew_tsubaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kunimi's life is fine as it is, with the things he does and the people who are a part of it… But when one person isn't there as expected, Kunimi—for once—takes action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kirin-sensei

**Author's Note:**

> The Haikyuu! characters belong to Furudate Haruichi-sensei, not to me. More Mizokuni which you didn't know you needed in your life. B) Read, review, and enjoy!

Oops. His receive was a little off. Kunimi watched as it flew over Chiba, their setter's, head, and Chiba could do barely more than nudge it towards Kindaichi, who saved the play by simply pushing it over the net. The players on the other side couldn't retrieve it, so a round of applause appeared for Kindaichi.

Normally, Kunimi would've joined the bandwagon and clapped his friend on the back or playfully bumped his shoulder, but Kunimi wasn't thinking of that in that moment. No, instead he was waiting to be barked at as he had been for the past several years.

But it was surprisingly quiet.

Aoba Johsai's captain turned his head and found only Irihata sending him a stern look that bordered on irate. Yet he said nothing. He could tell that Kunimi knew he'd screwed up.

Kunimi looked away and shrugged to himself when he felt Irihata's gaze leave his back. Yeah, so he'd messed up. He didn't do it often, so it wasn't that big a deal. But it still felt odd to screw up and not hear Mizoguchi bark at him for slacking off.

And it wasn't even really slacking off. Kunimi had let his hair grow out a little since second year and, while he'd kept the back short, he'd left the front alone and wore it with the right half in front of his eyes and the left half brushed back. He liked it, kind of, but sometimes it got in the way on the court… Kindaichi had teased him a bit about it, saying that maybe Kunimi ought to wear a hairband to keep it back, but Kunimi didn't feel like it. Keeping track of hairbands would be a pain in the ass.

Kunimi internally sighed as Seijou's members got back into position to replay the last attack, and the underclassmen watched for his signal while the other third years trusted him without looking. Being captain was also a pain in the ass.

And, when his hair fell in his eyes again, Kunimi was reminded that Mizoguchi was a pain in the ass, too…albeit a very necessary one.

* * *

It took Kunimi a week to notice, though.

His third and final year, the one of his captaincy, had started two months ago. Kunimi was a bit more vocal now than when he'd been in his first and second years, but he still wasn't certain he _liked_ being captain. Kindaichi would've been a better choice, or Okino if he weren't a libero. Yet somehow everyone looked up to him and trusted him, and Kindaichi, Kawasumi, and Okino covered for him when Kunimi's leadership skills were severely lacking.

Irihata and Mizoguchi seemed to share the other third years' mindset, too, though they'd made it clear that they were expecting a lot from Kunimi. Kunimi figured it was only partially due to his having become captain; the other part was probably due to his having stuck with volleyball all three years in spite of his general apathy for everything else.

Yet…as May dragged on and the Interhigh preliminaries loomed over them, Kunimi noticed Mizoguchi's absence. Only Irihata was around to coach them, most of the time. By the middle of the week, Kunimi decided to sate his curiosity and asked Irihata where the assistant coach had gone.

"Ah, he didn't quit, if that's what you're wondering," the coach told him in the faculty lounge during lunch. He was organizing forms they'd need for the Interhigh, and he passed Kunimi a pile to straighten up.

The captain gave him a look but fixed the papers anyway. "So it's all right for him to skip practice then?"

"For him, yes. Besides, he was around almost all the time at the start of the school year. And he'll be with me on the bench in Sendai next month, no worries." Irihata's pen slowed on some document, and he glanced at Kunimi, not even trying to hide his smile. "Could it be you miss us when we're not around, Kunimi?"

Kunimi scowled at him.

Irihata laughed. "Either way, you'll have to get used to it. Mizoguchi's parents are after him to get married—"

Kunimi rolled his eyes at the cliché.

"—and he's been juggling various omiais they've been setting up for him."

Okay. Even _that_ earned a stunned look from Kunimi. "…sounds…rough," he mumbled after trying to determine an appropriate reaction. Arranged marriage meetings? He internally cringed.

"Well, once you boys are like us old guys, you start to wonder where the time went and if you used your time wisely to start with." Irihata hummed to himself and stretched his hands, idly playing with his wedding band.

Kunimi sort of understood what Irihata meant, though he found it hard to believe, coming from his coach. All of Seijou knew about Irihata's love for his wife and three kids, so it wasn't as though Irihata was speaking from experience. Or maybe he was. Maybe Irihata had met his wife via omiai…

"Anyway, Mizoguchi's squeezing a lot in around the tournaments, but he'll be back regularly when the weather's not as nice for such meetings." The coach gave Kunimi a knowing look. "And, though I'm impressed with the effort you've been putting into club activities, Kunimi, don't forget to have some fun yourself, or you might find yourself in Mizoguchi's shoes ten years down the road."

The captain rolled his eyes again and left the teacher to his work then. But he had no plans to heed Irihata's advice. Girls and dating seemed like a pain, based on the stories Oikawa used to tell them and Kawasumi's mood which would be fine one second and angry or mopey the next depending on how he and his girlfriend were doing. But, for Kunimi, volleyball, his friends, and a quiet school life were all he needed.

* * *

But, speak of the devil, and he will come.

A few days after bugging Irihata, the weekend came, and Kunimi had managed to convince Kindaichi to take him out and treat him to ramen. "It's club tradition," he told Kindaichi for the third time after they'd stuffed their faces and were taking their time heading to the train station.

" _No_ , it was something Iwaizumi-san, Matsukawa-san, and Hanamaki-san did to Oikawa-san all the time because he was captain." Kindaichi heaved a sigh, but he wasn't actually put out by Kunimi's actions. He'd had years to get used to them. "Based on that, the _captain_ is supposed to pay."

"Nah," Kunimi said, switching his train of thought at the last second instead of replying with "If Okino and Kawasumi were along, then maybe." Anyway, Kindaichi had been the one treating him for ages. Why should that change now?

They were almost to the crosswalk when Kindaichi's phone rang, his mother calling to ask when they'd be home. Kindaichi gave his friend a tiny smile and paused, pulling away for a second so his mother could blather at him.

Kunimi didn't mind. He took the chance to enjoy some open people-watching and found amusement in the small crowd that gathered at the stoplight, waiting for the walking sign to change.

For a brief second, bile rose in the back of his throat when he thought he saw Kageyama…but, no, it was just some college-age guy who looked like him from behind. Kunimi snickered when the dog belonging to the little old lady with the unconvincing brown wig sniffed the lookalike's shoe and raised its leg to pee. However, the blond man standing on the other side pointed it out to the lookalike, gesturing to the dog with the small bouquet of flowers he held in the hand not tucked away in his pocket.

Kunimi blinked. That—

"Mizoguchi-san?" Kindaichi called, his voice right behind Kunimi, startling the shorter boy. Obviously his friend was done on the phone.

The blond man turned at the sound of his name, his eyes widening upon spotting his students and his cheeks pinking while the sign turned green and everyone around him crossed. "Kindaichi? Kunimi?" He glanced across the street and hesitated before taking a few steps back and meeting them halfway on the sidewalk.

Kindaichi smiled warmly. "So it _is_ you. We haven't seen you in a while at club."

"Thought you'd forgotten what I look like?" Mizoguchi supplied, but he did so good-humoredly.

"That's what happens when you skip practice," Kunimi quipped.

The grin that had appeared on Mizoguchi's face slipped, and he gave Kunimi a little glare. "No one's skipping, Kunimi…" He paused, exhaled, and released the frustration that came whenever they were in the same vicinity.

"I know," Kunimi stated, dragging his eyes to the bouquet. What were the pink flowers called? He couldn't remember. His mother or Kindaichi's mother would know, without a doubt. "What number omiai?"

Mizoguchi's mouth popped open while Kindaichi gawked at him, coughing, " _Omiai_?!" But after that initial reaction, Mizoguchi didn't seem all that surprised that Kunimi would've, somehow, come to learn about the situation. So he took it in stride. "Number six," he answered, stuffing the bouquet-occupied hand into his other pocket as best he could without crushing the flowers under his arm.

Now it was Kunimi's turn to be surprised. Though, doing some mental math, and counting the number of absences…it shouldn't've been such a shock. In fact, six seemed like a small number for someone who'd nearly been working part-time because of this. "Six," Kunimi repeated, his eyes half-lidded but his eyebrows rising.

"Yeah…" Mizoguchi pursed his lips before frowning and looking between the two boys. "To be honest, they haven't been going so well…Kunimi, don't even think it's my fault, so stop smirking," he scolded when the left corner of the lazy boy's mouth twitched. Mizoguchi sighed. "Honestly, I hope you kids have better luck than I do when it comes time for you to deal with this stuff."

"Calling us 'you kids'…," Kunimi started, another smirk waiting to reveal itself.

Mizoguchi gave him a dry look, possibly expecting that. "It's been frustrating. My parents are fine setting things up, and the initial meetings go well. But when I meet with the woman for a second time—something halfway between a date and a second omiai—everything just falls flat." His shoulders dropped. "It's as if any sparks from the first meeting disappear before the second."

Ah. That would explain number six.

"Do you have to come in to the city a lot for these, Mizoguchi-san?" Kindaichi asked. "You look very well-put together."

Kunimi scrunched his nose up at that. He'd noticed, too, that Mizoguchi looked good in his blue-gray suit and tie and dark red shirt, but he hadn't thought of a proper way to phrase it. Kindaichi's simple-ness and sincerity were envious qualities to have sometimes.

"Ah, yeah… But it's not so bad. I live closer to here than the school, so." He shrugged, but he appreciated the compliment, judging by his smile. "I can spend my time picking out my clothes in the morning and have enough time to run home and change when Mother pulls a face when I meet my parents before going in. Kind of like that face," Mizoguchi commented with a snort, pointing to Kunimi's sour expression.

The captain couldn't help it. The idea of juggling all that crap seemed like a boatload of work that Kunimi didn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

Mizoguchi checked his watch then. "Ahh, I was planning on being early, but I guess I'll have to settle for being on time today."

Kindaichi frowned, spluttering, "No, sorry! It's my fault for calling out to you—!"

Their assistant coach chuckled then, and he shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Kindaichi. I'm glad I got to see some familiar faces, honest," he added, and there was a smirk in his eyes that told Kunimi that he rather liked having the chance to scold him, as well.

Kunimi stuck his tongue out at him in response.

Mizoguchi grunted and rolled his eyes, but he saw the light turn green out of the corner of his eye. "I'll see you two at practice!" he called as he backed up and turned around, and then he was jogging across the street, disappearing around the corner from the bank.

Kunimi watched until they couldn't see him anymore. He wasn't sure what to make of their interaction. Mizoguchi seemed so… _nice_ , it was almost scary.

"He looks happy, though, despite what he said," Kindaichi remarked, pulling Kunimi from his thoughts. They crossed the street and headed in the other direction, past the jeweler's and a clothing boutique and towards the station.

"Happy," Kunimi echoed.

"Yeah," Kindaichi said, regarding him on the stairwell. He finished his thought when they arrived at the platform. "I mean, even though he's had no luck so far, maybe he has hope that every new one might be _the_ one, you know?"

But Kunimi didn't know. He didn't know about that or what to think. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and trudged through his eclectic musings while Kindaichi chattered away and checked the train schedule on his phone.

All Kunimi knew was that a) he never wanted to go to an omiai in his life and b) he was kind of glad Mizoguchi had gotten to scold him, too, like normal.

* * *

Despite what Mizoguchi had said, he wasn't at practice on Monday. But Tuesday came, and he was there for afternoon club activities.

"Ah. A rare sighting," Kunimi stated when he walked into the gym.

"Kunimi…," Mizoguchi growled. But his growl did nothing to hide his relief at being there for once.

Practice went as usual and no one else cared about the return of the assistant coach. Still, Kunimi noticed that Mizoguchi looked tired, and the older man kept pinching the bridge of his nose, near his eyes, as if he were swatting the sleep dust away. So, at the end of practice once Kunimi had signaled for everyone to clean up, he stepped to the side and waited until Irihata and Mizoguchi were done talking. Then he inquired, "How did it go?"

Mizoguchi blinked, not expecting that. "Oh," he said after a second. He glanced at Irihata's back as the older coach exited the gym. Then his attention was back on the captain. "I was just telling Irihata-sensei the story… It went well."

"But next time won't?"

"Mm, I'm not sure." Mizoguchi scratched his cheek, perhaps debating how much he should tell the teenager, and then told Kunimi anyway. "This one's…different. We like the same baseball team. Like, diehard fans. So she asked if we could exchange numbers afterward, and we started talking the other night." He laughed at himself. "That's why I'm exhausted today. I lost track of time."

Kunimi eyed him until Mizoguchi fidgeted under his gaze. "So no number seven."

"I didn't say that. That was only our first meeting." The blond groaned. "Fingers crossed that the second one turns out better than the first."

"Perhaps a baseball date?" the third year mumbled. He narrowed his eyes at the slip-up. He'd been thinking _aloud_ ; he hadn't meant to give Mizoguchi any ideas.

Mizoguchi stroked his chin. "Actually, that's a good point…"

Kunimi sneered at him. "As long as it doesn't interfere with our games, Mizoguchi-san."

To Kunimi's surprise, Mizoguchi laughed again, and he dismissed the abysmal thought with a carefree wave of his hand. "Nah, this team is important to me, too. I wouldn't do that to you guys."

His words seemed sincere, but Kunimi wouldn't believe them as easily as he did the things Kindaichi said. "Says the delinquent coach," he pretended to mumble as he walked away, but he knew Mizoguchi had heard him.

" _KUNIMI_!"

* * *

Kunimi had to wait a while before learning whether Number Seven would turn up. A week later, Mizoguchi showed up again to practice, but he no longer looked tired. Just dejected.

"On to seven," he said churlishly before Kunimi opened his mouth.

It was eight before the preliminaries happened.

At least the Interhigh prelims gave everyone something else to think about. Mizoguchi didn't have to think about his omiais. Kunimi didn't have to think about Mizoguchi's melodrama playing out before him. The students didn't have to think about finals just yet. They could focus on the game and nothing but the game.

The bracket was in their favor, pitting them against a few pitiful schools and a weaker Wakutani Minami than Kunimi recalled the year before or the year before that. Karasuno handled a similar situation, although they knocked Datekou shockingly out of the running. Karasuno was well on its way to being a top-four school for the second year in a row.

"Good job," Kunimi grumbled when the team demanded a captain's speech after the coaches took them out to eat to congratulate them for getting seeded for the actual Interhigh in August. He dropped like a dead weight to his butt before Kindaichi could get Kawasumi to help keep him up, and there Kunimi remained for the duration of the meal.

"See?" Nakata, one of their second-year wing spikers, goaded Mizoguchi as most of the players took a second helping. The beady-eyed boy pointed at the coach with his chopsticks. "Good things happen when Seijou's whole, Mizoguchi-san!"

Mizoguchi laughed and didn't even call Nakata out for his lack of table manners. "You're right! Who needs women when you've got volleyball?"

Irihata coughed into his drink and Kunimi shared a look with Kindaichi, but…oh, well. The cat was out of the bag. But no one seemed to mind Mizoguchi's statement, least of all Kawasumi, who'd broken up with his girlfriend the day before the prelims (but thankfully Okino and Kindaichi had pulled him out of his slump in time for their games).

Kunimi's eyes darted to Mizoguchi up the table, and he briefly wondered if it was more than iced tea the coach was drinking… Still, maybe the attitude change was for the best? With Mizoguchi coming around again… Nakata was right: A Seijou that was whole was better than one that was not.

* * *

"You know… After the last one, and what he said at the party, I thought that'd be it," Kindaichi said quietly.

Kunimi ate his lunch silently beside Kindaichi on the roof. "Same," he muttered. He eyed his food and shoved it aside, standing and stretching before walking to the edge and leaning against the fencing.

Mizoguchi was a hypocrite. A week and a half after his "change of heart," he'd resumed his ghostly schedule, sometimes coming and going before any of the students knew what had happened. No one said anything now that they knew he was going to omiai after omiai, but a tiny part of Kunimi was irked. He was beginning to mean what he said, about Mizoguchi slacking off. If Mizoguchi could skip, why couldn't he?

A tiny voice inside his head that sounded too much like Watari reminded him that it was because he was captain.

Kunimi crossed his arms atop the railing and watched the ground. He didn't expect to see any movement since it was the middle of the day, so he was curious when he saw someone scurry out of the front gates. Even from up here, people didn't quite look like ants, and Kunimi knew him well enough to identify the person as being Mizoguchi.

"He's back at it again," Kunimi called to Kindaichi. He pointed a lazy finger down and rested his cheek in his free palm, closing his eyes as Kindaichi got up to come join him.

"Damn," Kindaichi said, squinting over the edge. "I get why he wishes differently for us. That's gotta be—"

"Hell?"

"I was gonna say 'draining,' plus imagine all the money spent on just getting there and back. But…the things one does for love, right?"

Kunimi slowly opened his eyes at that. "…too much effort," he drawled, and he walked back to his lunch before Kindaichi could say something else clichéd.

* * *

By number ten, Kunimi gave up caring. It was no longer entertaining, and he had more pressing things to do—like remind Kindaichi that he didn't need Kunimi to study with him, that his grades were nothing to worry about with first-semester finals drawing near.

So when Mizoguchi opened his mouth to tell Kunimi about the latest episode, Kunimi cut him off before he could begin. "You can stop right there," he said without even looking at the assistant coach.

Mizoguchi scowled. "You're so damn rude, Kunimi," he groused. He turned his head and put his hands on his hips, still kind of growling from the back of his throat.

Kunimi exhaled, not rising to the bait. He was used to Mizoguchi's attitude. But also… "I've begun to think of you as Kirin-sensei since I'm more used to you _not_ being around than being present."

The blond gawked at him. "Kirin?"

Kunimi raised his eyebrows, smirking. "You know. Mythical horse-like creature. Horned. A rare thing to see."

Mizoguchi's face flooded with color. "I know that! I read!"

The captain shrugged it off. "As I was saying, I've begun to think of you as being absent more than present, and I'm perfectly fine with that. So please don't tell me any more about your lackluster quest for a love life."

Mizoguchi gave him another look and pressed his lips into such a thin, straight line that Kunimi thought he was going to snap at Kunimi again for being an ass. Instead, the blond huffed, mumbling under his breath, "…kirin…I'm not…" He glared at Kunimi and huffed again. "Fine."

Kunimi stared at him disinterestedly.

"I'll just have to point out to you all the times I _am_ on campus."

Two seconds of silence passed. Then Kunimi had to turn his head, because he very nearly burst out laughing in front of Mizoguchi. For crying out loud… Was Mizoguchi _really_ that big a child?

* * *

Mizoguchi turned out to be an even bigger child than that.

Kunimi hadn't believed him upon his declaration, but he had no choice but to acknowledge him after day in and day out Mizoguchi made his presence known to Kunimi.

It started out with little waves or nods of his head. That was simple enough when Kunimi would catch his eye in the gym or on the way to or from there. Kunimi learned, too, that Mizoguchi wasn't as formal as guy, even, when greeting him. Sometimes it was a quick hand over his shoulder, other times it was a proper wave, and yet other times it was a quick peace flashed in passing. Kunimi was taken aback the first couple of times, but he switched to giving Mizoguchi an unimpressed face in response in the end.

But Mizoguchi was getting used to this. After several days of waving, he took to calling out to Kunimi. "Oi, Kunimi!" he called with his hand cupped around his mouth when the courtyard separated them and they were going opposite directions. " _KUNIMI_!" he resumed yelling during practice…sometimes even when Kunimi was certain he'd done nothing wrong and maybe Mizoguchi was just getting his kicks in. "Kunimi," he piped up, even when he was talking with another faculty member and happened to notice Kunimi out of the corner of his eye. It didn't matter that he'd interrupt the other teacher or that he'd forget what he was saying himself—he really seemed to mean it when it came to catching Kunimi's attention, no matter how damned embarrassing it was at times.

Kindaichi even asked Kunimi what was going on, but Kunimi said Mizoguchi was just tormenting him. Unfortunately, the traitor laughed at his friend instead of feeling sympathy for him. "Kunimi? _You_ , tormented?"

"Yes," Kunimi hissed on their way to eat lunch outside.

"I thought the tormenter never became the tormented!"

With that, Kunimi flipped him off and grabbed his lunch and a book and stormed out, hoping to find a quiet spot devoid of any and all other life.

He _did_ find that spot, stunningly. He sat on the path leading to the clubrooms and hunkered down. No one had the time to visit the clubrooms to get anything useful done during lunch, so no one was going to come this way. Plus sitting at the corner allowed him to seek refuge in the cool shadows of the club building while the hot late-July sun warmed his legs and shed light on his book. It was the perfect place to read, really.

Kunimi dug into his bag and pulled out an onigiri, eating with one hand and propping the book open between his knees with the other. It was relaxing, enjoying lunch like this… He really had to remember this for the future, especially if Kindaichi was going to get on his nerves again.

The spiker finished his first onigiri and reached into the bag for a second. He hoped it was a sweet plum one. His mother knew that it was his dad who liked the salted plum ones, not him—

His thoughts strayed when he sensed a presence, and he turned back to his book. A shadow fell partially over the page. Irksome. Kunimi couldn't read like this.

Still, he knew a game when he saw one, so he returned to fishing out the next onigiri and unwrapping the cellophane around it. He took a bite, chewed, tried to finish the page he was on, and internally screamed in frustration as he gave in and met Mizoguchi's eyes.

Mizoguchi grinned. "I was waiting until you noticed me," he remarked.

Kunimi blinked. What the hell? "Okay, you've got my attention," Kunimi grumbled.

The older man pumped his fist in victory and laughed. "HA! Yes! See? I told you I'd prove you wrong. I'm on campus—you're just not observant."

Kunimi rolled his eyes, not bothering to correct Mizoguchi that he'd never explicitly declared he'd prove Kunimi wrong. "Satisfied?" he asked irritably.

Mizoguchi nodded, but then he checked his watch. "Ah, shit. It's really already—?"

"Another omiai?" The words felt dry and unwelcome on the teen's tongue.

"Yeah…" Mizoguchi sighed. He surveyed Kunimi enviously. "Frankly, I'd rather stay and enjoy lunch, but…agh." He turned away and headed back towards the main building, flashing a peace over his shoulder to Kunimi as if his plans hadn't changed and he'd be bothering Kunimi the next day, as well.

But, somehow, Kunimi knew that wouldn't be the case.

* * *

Finals came, beat some of them into shape, and let them run off to the Interhigh as summer break began. Aoba Johsai took second place, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa had shown up to demonstrate their support, even, and it was nice. Kunimi knew how the other three third years felt about their win, and it felt good knowing that they'd be aiming for the Spring High again. It was a habit that was turning into tradition for the third years to stick it out through the Spring High ever since Oikawa's reign, and at least it was a plan that Kunimi didn't have to bother creating. So his summer break was for him and him alone.

…which was why Kunimi Akira found himself standing outside an apartment door on the edge of the city.

That Watari-sounding conscience of his was back at it, too. "This is a bad idea," his conscience told him.

Kunimi wanted to ask why, but he really didn't feel like arguing with himself right now.

The apartment door was painted an unattractive mustard yellow, and the number plate read "301" right above the panel with Mizoguchi's name. The apartment complex wasn't dingy, per se, but Kunimi honestly thought Mizoguchi would've lived somewhere a little nicer. After all, wasn't that the point of city living?

His conscience clicked its tongue at him, and he pictured a tiny Watari sitting on one of his shoulders, shaking his head.

During one of the times spent helping Irihata out in the faculty lounge right before break, Kunimi had seized the chance to glance at Mizoguchi's personnel file. Irihata had had his back turned, so Kunimi knew it would be the only opportunity. Really, he thought it was the first useful thing he'd done in the faculty lounge, and now, a train ride and several ignored texts from Kindaichi later, here he was, standing in front of and not knocking on Mizoguchi's door.

Kunimi licked his lips. God, it was hot today, and humid to boot. Maybe this had been a bad idea…

His mind flashed to the water bottle in his bag. It was empty, drained on the train.

Oh. Well. That was one reason to ring the doorbell, right?

Before the intangible Watari on his shoulder could protest, Kunimi aimed a slender finger and pressed the button below the nameplate. The bell sounded clearly on the inside the apartment, like brand-new. Huh. Maybe this building wasn't as aged as it seemed?

"Coming, coming," Mizoguchi called through the door, and it was only when the door handle began to turn that Kunimi understood _holy shit he'd really come here_. Mizoguchi's face revealed he was in agreement. "K-Kunimi?!" he spluttered.

"Hello," Kunimi said, his tone flat.

"What are you doing here?!" Mizoguchi snarled, his hand still on the handle behind the door.

"Well, currently I'd like a glass of water. It's unbearable out here."

"Are you stupid, being in this heat without a water bottle?!"

"I drank it, _stupid_ ," he retorted, emphasizing his discomfort by fanning himself with the collar of his blue tee.

Mizoguchi floundered then, and his anger fought and lost to confusion as he turned and motioned Kunimi to come inside. "All right, all right… Come on. I've got ice."

Kunimi slipped inside and shut the door behind him, relieved when air conditioning brought him back to life. He toed his shoes off in front of the door and left his small backpack by his shoes, strolling into the apartment.

Judging from the outside, Kunimi had been expecting something more traditional. But, no, it was modern, although kind of small. There was a small cooking space to the left of the door, and it opened up into the living room, where Mizoguchi had a TV arranged on a wooden table angled in one corner. There weren't any chairs but several dull-colored cushions and another low, wooden table with an ashtray on it. So Mizoguchi smoked.

"Here," Mizoguchi said, thrusting a glass of ice water in front of Kunimi's face. "Drink this, fill up your water bottle, and _leave_."

"Why?" Kunimi asked. Poking the bear came so naturally to Kunimi.

"Because you're my _student_ , and I like to keep my work and my personal life separate."

Kunimi snorted into the glass. "Then you never should've spilled your guts a few months ago," he said over the rim.

Mizoguchi pulled a face, disliking that reaction. "…yeah, perhaps you're right."

"And you were the one who was determined to be on my radar. Hard to do if you're out and about all the time," Kunimi added after a pause much too long for his liking.

The blond man softened at that, and he reached out and tousled Kunimi's hair, drawing a disgruntled scoff from the other male. "Yeah, sorry about that."

Mizoguchi went and sat on one of the cushions, and he turned the TV on, not barring Kunimi from joining him on the cushion to his left. After a minute, he pulled a pack from under the table, tapped it on the table, and held the box out to Kunimi. Kunimi glanced at it and looked funnily at Mizoguchi. "Uh, I don't smoke."

"Neither do I!" the coach hissed, and his face reddened much to Kunimi's amusement. "They're _chocolate_ , you little—"

"You know, if you want to call me a little shit, go right ahead." He smirked.

Mizoguchi narrowed his eyes at him and cleared his throat. "They're chocolate," he repeated, ignoring the interruption. "So take one."

Kunimi raised his eyebrows and did as asked, but he put his on the table. He was still too warm to want to eat chocolate. But Mizoguchi, who'd been safe and sound in the air conditioning, unwrapped his and bit into it.

"…I _used_ to smoke," he admitted after Kunimi did nothing but stare at his face and sip the water. He glanced at Kunimi. "I don't anymore. It was a long time ago. But…the oral fixation remains," he finished with a sigh.

Kunimi brushed back the hair that stuck to the right side of his face. He was glad to be wrong for once. He couldn't stand smokers when he passed them on the streets…of course, it made sense that Mizoguchi no longer was one. He never smelled like it anyway.

"So what really brought you here?" Mizoguchi queried when the commercials ended and the news came on. He half faced Kunimi.

"I came to hang," Kunimi replied, moving his bum on the cushion. It was actually pretty comfy, but he was still warm, despite wearing shorts, so he stretched his legs out on one of the other available cushions.

"Came to— _agh_ ," Mizoguchi griped. "You're getting back at me for bothering you the last month, aren't you?" He narrowed his eyes again.

Kunimi almost laughed, realizing Mizoguchi's eyes were the same color as the milk chocolate cigarettes he enjoyed. "Not really," he said honestly.

"Yeah, well… Finish your water and eat the chocolate. Then _go home_. Make this one and done, Kunimi." And he faced the television again, not even waiting for a retort.

* * *

Kunimi had known from the first moment Mizoguchi had opened the door that first time that he didn't do "one and done." And he set about convincing Mizoguchi of this as August stretched into forever with its long summer days.

Kunimi came intruding almost every day. Mizoguchi had tried forcing the door closed the second time, but Kunimi was only an inch shorter than Mizoguchi and was nearly as strong, it turned out, so Mizoguchi stopped wasting his energy after that. In the visits that followed, he just rolled his eyes, called Kunimi a stinker, and turned around, reminding Kunimi to close the door behind him.

There was more to learn about Mizoguchi Sadayuki than Kunimi originally had thought. The thirty-three-year-old wasn't the old geezer he and Irihata liked to joke about being. He kept weights and a few other small pieces of exercise equipment in the living room, and his physique was the thirty-year-old equivalent of what Kunimi and the other players had. Also, the small, sepia cabinet in the corner adjacent to the TV corner hid a nice stereo and collection of…well, an embarrassing number of CDs. Some of the groups he liked, Kunimi had never heard of, and he teased Mizoguchi about it; but other groups (just four) they had in common, and Mizoguchi was smug when Kunimi seethed over a signed disc Kunimi was missing from his own collection. How frustrating to be mostly digital these days.

Aside from chocolate cigarettes, Mizoguchi had fairly normal culinary tastes. But— "That's a lot of frozen dinners," Kunimi quipped when Mizoguchi told him to go pour his own ice-cold drink at one point.

"Shut up," Mizoguchi bitched, hopping up from in front of the TV and coming up behind his student to slam the freezer door shut. "They're healthy ones," he insisted when Kunimi turned his head and locked eyes with him, snickering.

There was more to discover about the apartment, too, the more often he came over. The air conditioning flowed well through the space, but it hit best the spot Mizoguchi favored, to the right of the low table, aimed perfectly at the television. Once Kunimi discovered this, he began to steal the spot whenever Mizoguchi got up to use the toilet or to grab something from his room, but Mizoguchi refused to give it up and picked Kunimi up like a sack of rice to move him if need be.

The bathroom was the biggest room in the place, double the size of Mizoguchi's bedroom, Kunimi estimated, when he stole a glance into the latter space one time when Mizoguchi was showering to get ready for yet another omiai. Mizoguchi's bedroom was fairly plain and didn't look lived in, and Kunimi would've thought it had barely any trace of Mizoguchi's personality until the coach barged in and threw open his closet to get dressed. Seeing the cloth color palette made things a little more Mizoguchi, Kunimi decided.

Unfortunately, much as Kunimi was enjoying his stays—and he was; the trips were worth it, kind of like when he went over to Kindaichi's house…and yet not like going over to Kindaichi's—the omiais were still happening. The first time Mizoguchi had one with Kunimi over, he'd sent Kunimi home. But the second time? Kunimi remained obstinate and refused to leave. "I'll just enjoy the free cable," he told his coach, and Mizoguchi didn't bother wasting the time trying to scoot him out. And when Mizoguchi came home and found his place still intact, he acknowledged that he could trust Kunimi to be alone in his apartment.

With the third omiai—and these recent ones were coming a lot quicker, Kunimi noted with some sympathy for the older man—Kunimi had traded in his patience for stunningly making himself useful. "You have zero eye for color," he told Mizoguchi unabashedly the morning of that third omiai.

"I buy what I like. Or what my mother tells me," the coach added in a tinier voice.

Kunimi bit his lower lip to keep in his laughter. "What about getting someone else's advice?"

Mizoguchi wasn't dumb, so he agreed to let Kunimi thumb through his closet…but only after a staring match he lost because he was too fidgety.

"Go with this," Kunimi instructed, selecting a cool black suit, "and pair it with this." He held up the dark green oxford and waited for Mizoguchi to take it.

"What about a tie?"

"Nah. Being too formal might be part of the problem."

"Mother insists."

Kunimi shook his head and selected a light cool gray one. "Here. But roll it up in your pocket, to take out only if she's about to blow a gasket."

Mizoguchi laughed. It was a genuine sound. Not because he'd gotten the upper hand on Kunimi or because Kunimi was grumbling in response to him. No, he'd been amused by something Kunimi had said. Simply entertained.

"What?" Kunimi snipped, heat rising in his cheeks.

"No, it's just… Honestly, that's _exactly_ what I think of her. Blowing a gasket."

"I'd say 'great minds think alike,' but, well…"

"And there goes that moment." Mizoguchi gave him a dry look. "You really are a little shit."

Now Kunimi laughed.

He saw Mizoguchi to the door and Mizoguchi looked more confident than…well, Kunimi had ever seen him. "Wish me luck!" the coach chirped, and he grinned at the eye roll he got instead as he headed out.

Kunimi tried to hold on to the pleasant feeling his laughter—and Mizoguchi's—had given him as the hours ticked away. The television did little to distract him from the thought of where Mizoguchi had gone, and Mizoguchi didn't have anything dirty to watch or read hidden anywhere. Or at least anywhere Kunimi had looked. So the captain kept himself entertained by surfing the net on his phone and reading Kindaichi's novel-quantity of texts about what he'd been up to without Kunimi.

He nodded off at some point. He awoke to the sound of the door clicking quietly shut and a plastic bag rustling. When he picked his head up, Mizoguchi held up a hand to stop him. "Ah, sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

Kunimi quirked one dark eyebrow.

"Well, I don't like that you fell asleep, but I didn't _mean_ to wake you." He put the bag on the lone kitchen countertop. "I got some ice cream."

"How did it go?" Kunimi asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Really well." He shed his jacket and disappeared into the bedroom to hang it up. When he returned, he grabbed the ice creams, one for each of them, and passed Kunimi the coffee-flavored one.

"What does 'really well' mean?" the captain prodded, taking Mizoguchi's ice cream instead since it had nuts and caramel.

Mizoguchi made a face at him and started in on the coffee regardless. "For one, Mother didn't tell me to go back and change." He grinned, and he looked pleased with himself. "She was impressed and agreed about no tie today. And the suit overall. I should have you pick out everything," he joked.

Kunimi nearly retorted that the point was so Mizoguchi _wouldn't_ have to attend omiais forever. But his eyes wandered as Mizoguchi ate the ice cream and told him how it went.

No tie really had been the right choice. In the summer heat, a tie would've been cruel, and Mizoguchi looked better with his top button undone, though now he undid the second one, too, as the ice cream's coldness was slow to take effect. His hair didn't look as nice as it had before he left, since sweat had plastered his short fringe to his forehead, and a couple of beads ran along the side of his neck, reminding Kunimi that Mizoguchi was a fit guy. And that color green… It was earthy and complemented the earthiness of Mizoguchi's brown eyes, as well.

In short, Kunimi knew right then that he'd like to see Mizoguchi out of the suit as well as in it.

"Shit," Mizoguchi cursed, breaking Kunimi's dangerous line of thought. He stared down at his shirt. Ice cream had dripped onto it. "Shit, shit, shit," he kept muttering, hopping up and scurrying to the kitchen sink.

Kunimi seized the reprieve and ate a large spoonful of ice cream, feeling the cold cool his cheeks. At the same time, his conscience was clicking its tongue at him again, and that miniature Watari popped into his head. But despite his disapproving tone, the Watari conscience looked unsure. Even he was waffling at Kunimi's recent thoughts. "You shouldn't feel so comfy here," his conscience chided him, but that was all his conscience offered.

His vices sounded like Matsukawa and Hanamaki, on the other hand, and Kunimi even imagined them appearing on his opposite shoulder, the tiny devils to Watari's angel. "Why the hell not?" they chorused mischievously, and the face-off was enough to give him a headache. Though, he supposed…certain conditions aside…

Why the hell not?

* * *

Truly, he felt comfortable, coming over to Mizoguchi's as he pleased. It was on the train rides over or when Mizoguchi left the room that Kunimi warred with his conscience. At one point, that annoying little Watari angel tried pointing out that he was seventeen and young and innocent, but at that Kunimi almost asked himself aloud, "Innocent? Have you _met_ me?" Especially considering that his conscience was supposed to be a part of his mind, and R18 thoughts weren't foreign to him.

Besides, he was aware of the sixteen-year age gap between them. That wasn't something one easily overlooked. But… Kunimi figured he could be patient and wait it out until he was of age in just over seven months' time. (Every time he thought of that, he did his best not to think of how Mizoguchi's birthday came right before his, at the end of January.) But, no, he could be patient. Seriously. If he could pull off becoming a respectable captain of the volleyball team, then surely he could wait to get serious about Mizoguchi until his eighteenth birthday passed at the end of the year. Granted, Kunimi didn't want to think about where he'd be going after graduation, but still. He could wait.

But waiting didn't mean he had to while away and do nothing about his feelings. No. He had all this time to try to get Mizoguchi to start falling for him now. And that was the kind of decision that shut up his conscience…and got the little Matsukawa and Hanamaki in his brain to cheer.

After well over a dozen omiais, Kunimi debated how he might go about convincing Mizoguchi that Kunimi was an available avenue, but he got distracted when, in the third week of August, Mizoguchi whined about yet another failed second meeting. "So…how _does_ an omiai go?" he queried, realizing he'd never asked until now.

Mizoguchi picked his pouting face up off the table and stared long and hard at Kunimi. When he realized that Kunimi wasn't making fun of him, he sighed and answered, "It's pretty straightforward. Once the parents, or a matchmaker, have made arrangements, the actual meeting is the easy part. You go meet the prospective bride and her parents or guardians along with your parents or guardians. There are some general introductions made—tends to last between ten to twenty minutes, in my experience—and then the parents leave the room and you try to get acquainted with the other person."

"How?" Kunimi sniffed at that. Ew. He really hated small talk.

"There are some typical questions after introductions take place." He reached under the table and took out a fresh pack of chocolate cigarettes. "You know, like about where you grew up, what your occupation is, what your hobbies are. That kind of stuff." He held up a finger to pause their conversation and grabbed a thin packet of paper from the wire shelf underneath the TV table, and he passed the packet to Kunimi.

Kunimi skimmed it. The list of questions was pretty comprehensive without being too intrusive. "'What is a typical morning for you?'" he read out loud.

Mizoguchi shook his head at Kunimi. "What are you doing?"

"I'm curious how you answer these. How natural do you sound when you reply?"

"…" Mizoguchi unwrapped the chocolate cigarette and let it hang out of his mouth as he looked at the list over Kunimi's shoulder. He sighed again, his breath warm on Kunimi's neck. "…dunno. Think that's an issue?"

"I could quiz you," Kunimi offered, scooting away from Mizoguchi. It was easier to talk when his brain wasn't addled with fantasies induced by Mizoguchi's proximity.

Mizoguchi leaned back in his spot and shrugged as much as he could while he leaned back on his palms. "All right. Shoot."

"'What is a typical morning for you?'" Kunimi repeated.

"If it's a work day, I get up at 5:45 and turn on the news while I get ready. I tend to grab a piece of fruit as my breakfast before I need to make the train. Yes, so I'm no role model," he added when Kunimi snickered.

Kunimi's eyes roved over the list. "'What do you do for a living?'"

"I play babysitter for a punch of volleyball players and this one pain in my ass."

"Mizoguchi-san, that wouldn't earn you any points with anyone."

"No, but it wiped that smirk off your face," the coach stated with a snort.

"Moving on… 'If you couldn't live where you do now, where would you choose to live?'"

Mizoguchi stroked his chin, and Kunimi noticed there was a hint of stubble coming in. "Hmm… I think I'd still stay in Japan? But maybe go further south… I do better in a warmer climate. So maybe Saitama or even Tottori?"

"I hate the heat."

"No one asked."

Kunimi pouted at him and then looked down at the list, trying to find another thing to ask him. So many of the inquiries were annoying and not to Kunimi's taste. Things about the future and the past, and sometimes about the present. A question of his own popped into his head, and he asked it: "Is there anything new in your life that you're enjoying?"

Mizoguchi chuckled and shook his head. "Is that question really on there? I thought I'd memorized them by now."

Kunimi kept his head down. "Yup," he lied.

"Wait a minute… It isn't, is it?"

"Just answer the question, Mizoguchi-san."

"No, let me see the packet. Oi, Kunimi!" he barked when Kunimi held it out of reach but kept his head down. Mizoguchi groaned and reached for the hunk of hair hanging in front of the right side of Kunimi's face instead. "You little punk. Look me in the eye and tell me that's…on there…"

The room went dead silent, except for the low hum of the air conditioning. Kunimi hadn't realized Mizoguchi might reach for him, so he'd looked up in time to meet Mizoguchi's eyes when the blond man had grabbed his hair. Now they were frozen in this odd pose, Kunimi stunned and Mizoguchi looking as though he was a second away from pushing that hair behind Kunimi's ear…and maybe leaning a little closer.

It was easy to read in Mizoguchi's eyes; he was thinking the same thing as Kunimi. The only difference was that Mizoguchi was the one who blushed like a dumb preteen girl when he saw Kunimi's face up close, and he gaped dumbly at him before dropping Kunimi's hair like a hot coal. His eyes darted to the questions, which were in reach since the moment had made Kunimi forget about their game of keep-away, and so he took the questions away and scrambled to get to his feet.

But Kunimi snatched his wrist. He waited for Mizoguchi to look at him again, unconsciously tightening his grip while the assistant coach looked anywhere but at his eyes. Shade by shade, Mizoguchi turned redder and redder, to the point where he looked uncomfortable…but Kunimi didn't intend to make him feel so. So Kunimi swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and got to his feet, letting Mizoguchi go. He marched to the door with his head down and shouldered his bag at the same time as cramming his feet into his sneakers, and he left, ignoring Mizoguchi's first-ever feeble "Kunimi…" as he hurried downstairs and got away from the apartment complex.

Once he was on the train home, Kunimi brought his legs up to his chest, placing his bag on his lap and tucking it between his knees and forehead. He ran a hand through his hair, letting the long left side free for once, glad to have this curtain to hide his face, because he knew his face was probably the same color as Mizoguchi's right now. But… _shit_. Shit, shit, _shit_. He couldn't help it. He'd recently acknowledged that Mizoguchi normally was hot but, _fuck_ , his flustered face was cute.

That settled it. Kunimi couldn't return to that place. So much for making Mizoguchi fall for him—he'd wanted to take his time wooing the guy, not make it horrifically obvious from the get-go. But there was no doubt in Kunimi's mind that he'd just done exactly that.

* * *

Kunimi let the rest of summer play out quietly. Kindaichi, though curious, never asked why Kunimi suddenly made the time for him, but he came close to inquiring when Kunimi didn't mind even going with Kindaichi _and_ Kawasumi and Okino to do stuff.

But Kunimi knew why. Hanging out with his friend and teammates was the best way to avoid the temptation to go back to Mizoguchi's apartment and sort everything out.

Summer vacation ended, and the second semester began. Kunimi tried to remember how he'd handled Mizoguchi before, and Mizoguchi seemed to be doing the same, but they were terrible at acting normal since they toed around each other for the first couple of weeks. Yet eventually it began to feel like normal, as though Kunimi was the typical thorn in Mizoguchi's side and Mizoguchi was the dictator whose favorite pastime was yelling at Kunimi.

Still, true to what Irihata had said, Mizoguchi was around more often and not going on as many omiais, now that the weather was "not as nice for such meetings." So it wasn't just their rhythm returning to normal, but Mizoguchi's schedule, as well.

A small part of Kunimi wondered if perhaps Mizoguchi might even resume their old game of the coach making his presence known to Kunimi on campus. But that didn't happen. In fact, Mizoguchi made it perfectly clear when they crossed paths at the end of the school day on a day when there was no practice.

"You're figuring out your role again, Mizoguchi-san," Kunimi prompted when Mizoguchi stared at him and said nothing for an awkward minute.

That snapped the blond out of it. "Ah. Yeah…" His shoulders sagged, and he looked away from Kunimi. "I…just want to do my job like normal." He paused and let an odd beat pass. Then, in a clear but weak voice, he finished, "I just want to do my job in peace."

Ah. So that was how it was going to be. Kunimi remained rooted to the spot while Mizoguchi moved on, but the captain clenched his fists at his sides, hating what Mizoguchi had said. It hurt, really. The rejection. Kunimi had never experience it before, and he didn't want to experience it again. It felt like getting one of Oikawa's monster serves to the chest, as though his ribs were breaking and splintering and piercing every soft tissue they could find.

By the time Kindaichi found him, Kunimi was crouched on the ground, his arms crossed atop his knees and his face hidden away from the world. Kindaichi freaked out but knew better than to bother him with questions that would go unanswered, so he did the next best thing and stayed with his friend, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

* * *

The thing was…Kunimi was not a crier.

After that scene, he made up a lie about feeling the pressure of being captain and fed it to Kindaichi. No way in hell did Kindaichi buy it, considering how long they'd known each other, but he left well enough alone because he knew it was serious if Kunimi had gone so far as to put the effort in to lying about it.

But, with that smoothed over, Kunimi thought back on what Mizoguchi had said—and decided how dumb it was. It couldn't've been a rejection. Nope. Because he'd never even properly voiced his feelings from the start. So he let his irritation swell until it was one wrong thing said away from becoming anger, and he waited for a few more weeks to pass so that Mizoguchi would think that was that and they'd washed their hands of each other.

Then Kunimi took the train the last weekend of September and climbed up the stairs until he was at apartment 301.

He clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. Then he inhaled and knocked.

No answer.

He exhaled and peeked at the crack under the door and saw, with the lights on, that a shadow was moving around inside. So. Mizoguchi was home. Feeling a bit steadier on his feet, Kunimi rang the doorbell once. He tried a second time when Mizoguchi still refused to answer, but he could tell by the scurrying shadow it _was_ his assistant coach and not someone else.

Fine, then. If he wanted to play games…

Kunimi cleared his throat. "Kunimi Akira," he said very clearly, loud enough to be heard through the door. "Where did I grow up? I grew up in the family home I'm still residing in, the one in which my father grew up in. What are my hobbies? Listening to music, looking at memes, throwing comebacks at people who piss me off, and getting people to treat me to good food. What is a typical morning for me? I tend to get up just in time for breakfast and I wait for Kindaichi to come pick me up on his way to the bus." He paused, hating these questions but knowing they'd get Mizoguchi's attention at _some_ point. They had to. Plus Kunimi recalled most, if not all, of them, so this would go on for however long Mizoguchi thought he could ignore Kunimi. "If I couldn't live where I live right now, I think I'd probably like to live in a cramped apartment in the city with a fucking ugly yellow door."

There was a thud and a curse inside the apartment. Kunimi pictured Mizoguchi stubbing his toe on something and trying to keep quiet. It only made him snicker and bolstered his confidence.

"I've better taste than most in music," he continued, "and I have no idea where I see myself a year from now…but I think I want to be happy."

Quiet.

Kunimi blinked, realizing his questions had wandered a bit far from the light conversational tone the packet opened with. "Ah, about my occupation and age," he called through the door. "I'm a bit young, and I'm only a stu—"

Well, that did the trick. Mizoguchi threw open the door and glared at Kunimi to shut up before the neighbors overheard. Red-faced and scowling, Mizoguchi growled, " _Go. Home_."

But Kunimi was just as stubborn. He straightened his back and looked the older man in the eye. "No."

"Why?!" The poor guy was close to whining.

"Because I'm your next meeting."

Mizoguchi ran a hand over his face—freshly shaved, Kunimi noted—and gawped at him. His expression definitely read "you've got to be kidding me." He even said it: "Oh, you've got to be kidding me…" His voice sounded slightly hoarse, as if he'd only gotten up twenty minutes before Kunimi had arrived. To that extent, Kunimi got a good look at him and understood that that probably was exactly the case, considering the wrinkled t-shirt and baggy sleep pants Mizoguchi wore. His hair, to the trained eye, was uncombed, too. The overall look got Kunimi excited.

So he grabbed Mizoguchi by the collar and kissed him. He had zilch experience in this area, but he figured he wasn't half bad when Mizoguchi opened his mouth a little wider after the initial shock. Briefly satisfied, Kunimi moved his head back and looked Mizoguchi in the eye again. "Even if I promise I'm your last?" he mumbled and, though the words seemed cheesy, Kunimi knew he meant them.

Mizoguchi appeared to understand his determination, too. It was so obvious on his face and in his body language that he sort of melted at Kunimi's words, although he stood there lamely in the doorway, looking as though he were a girl who'd just been asked out. And, well, that sort of _was_ the scenario.

Since Mizoguchi didn't pull away or turn Kunimi away, the third year reached for him and drew the defeated man into his arms. Ah, yes… It felt so good to win, but this was the best kind of win, because it _meant_ something to Kunimi. And, as Mizoguchi's hands feebly gripped the sides of Kunimi's t-shirt, Kunimi smiled into Mizoguchi's shoulder.

"I give up," Kunimi's conscience muttered, that little Watari angel sighing and crossing his arms.

"About time," his vice in the form of Devil Matsukawa drawled, eying the angel.

Kunimi swallowed his laughter, though. Angels and devils and kirin—they were all pains in his ass. But, he thought as he squeezed Mizoguchi a little tighter, they were necessary pains in his ass.

**Author's Note:**

> Oops. This is actually my 2nd Mizokuni idea, but the first one is taking longer to come out… I got the idea when a professor actually decided to play the "I PROMISE I'm on campus, you just don't notice me, so I'll point it out EVERY time we cross paths" game with me this semester because he is that big a child, but I thought it'd be funny to turn it into a story idea and now here we are, 9,850 words later. O_O I'm a sucker for age gaps, though, and Mizokuni…really works? Idk, but they're adorable. Mizoguchi growing used to Kunimi to the point of getting softer around him… Ahhh, I think I fell for Mizocchi in writing this. XD Btw, in case it wasn't clear—Kunimi was calling him a "kirin," which is pretty much the Japanese equivalent of a unicorn; that came about because I teased my professor after he started the game, saying I was going to start calling him "Professor Unicorn" since he was such a rare sight. XD But aaaagh, Mizokuniiiii. :3 Also, yes, every name you didn't recognize was an OC, and I'm using them in some other fics, so you'll see them around if you read my other stuff. Let's see, what else… Mizoguchi was in apartment 301 for a reason (can you guess? ;3), Kindaichi has to be the best bro for Kunimi if they're in a fic and Kinkuni's not their pairing ('cuz I love them), no we don't know when Mizocchi's bday is so I made it up to make the gap as small as possible between him and Kunimi, Kunimi really is a little shit… Oh. His conscience and vices being embodied by Watari, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki really came out of nowhere, but I thought it was entertaining. XD (Plus Matsuwata, if you know me. B3) Honestly, I'm not even sure what else there is to say except Captain Kunimi?! The idea still strikes me as funny and I truly think Kindaichi would be the better captain…and yet there's some stubborn part of me that thinks Kunimi would be it in their third year? Idek anymore…
> 
> Well, thanks for reading, and please review! Check out my other [HQ!] fics, too, if you liked this!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki :}


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